


Finn Appreciation Week 2018

by CaptainSaltyMuyFancy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Finn-centric, Force-Sensitive Finn, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSaltyMuyFancy/pseuds/CaptainSaltyMuyFancy
Summary: I'm probably going to cry writing this note but I love Finn. I love him so. Fucking. Much. He's so intrinsically good and yet he's pragmatic and realistic and yet he's gentle and compassionate. He's so intelligent, so empathetic, and so unique. No other Star Wars character has subverted the "rebels vs. government = the only good vs. the only bad" trope like he has. He broke through an entire lifetime of fascist conditioning because he knew what they taught him was wrong. He disobeyed orders even though he had been programmed all his life not to. All because he couldn't hurt innocent people. Because he knew it was wrong. He took the image of the faceless, mindless stormtrooper we've known for forty years and shattered it, proving there is humanity even under those cold shells. He's incredibly complex, not just the "uwu sweet cinnamon roll, too pure", he's not afraid to tell it like it is and he's not afraid to forge his own way. He knows what's right and what's wrong and he doesn't let anyone tell him otherwise. He won't be intimidated, he won't be guilted, he won't be ordered around, he won't be bullied. He has so much love inside him for others, for the galaxy, and yet he's confident enough in his identity to stick up for himself. I could go on and on and on and on and on about him because there is no other Star Wars character like him. He's so iconic and the only characters who even compare to him are Luke Skywalker, Revan, and the Jedi Exile.My favorite thing about Finn is probably the way he sticks to what he knows is right even though everything tells him not to. He wouldn't kill the villagers even though everything told him to. He wouldn't leave Poe to die in the wreckage on Jakku. He wouldn't let Rey be hurt by Unkar Plutt's thugs. He looked Maz Kanata in the eye and stood up for himself when she insinuated he was a coward (my favorite scene and quote of his!). He wouldn't run to the Outer Rim when he realized what the First Order did to the Hosnian system. He ran straight back to the First Order to save Rey. He jeopardized saving Rey to disable Starkiller's shields. He ran straight at Kylo Ren with the lightsaber. He chose to leave behind people who cared about him in order to protect Rey from the First Order. He risked his ability to protect Rey and his own safety in order to disable the First Order's tracking device. He's not a mindless drone who does whatever someone tells him to. He doesn't need idols or heroes to tell him how he should live and what he should believe. He knows who he is and what's best for him and what he deserves, but he still puts the needs of the galaxy ahead of himself. I love his integrity and I'm trying to capture that in this fic but there's no way I'll be able to in the way it deserves. But I hope you can still enjoy it!





	1. Day 1: Free

“Hey,” said Poe as he glanced down at Finn.

“Hey,” Finn responded, still lost in a daze.

“You okay?” Poe asked. He traced the line of Finn’s eye brow with his thumb. Finn looked up at him and smiled.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Okay.” Poe moved from sitting to laying down and Finn craned his neck to lean his head on Poe’s shoulder. Their hands found each other and their fingers intertwined.

There was nothing in the galaxy Finn would trade for moments like these: completely relaxed, muscles at ease, brain wandering aimlessly through day dreams, free to do and say and think whatever his heart desired. Free.

“I love you,” said Finn after a few minutes. He used to be afraid to break silence. He used to hold his tongue, going days without speaking to anyone unless he was spoken to. But now he was free. He had freed himself and he could talk and laugh and cry whenever he wanted.

“I love you, too,” Poe replied. Finn rotated so he was laying partially on top of Poe and rested his forehead against his temple. Poe wrapped his arms around him and peppered his face with soft, tiny kisses. Finn laughed, almost startling himself with the volume, and loosely draped his arms around Poe’s neck.

Finn used to dream of running, bounding through a forest with the morning dew dampening his face and the leaves brushing against his hair. In them he was free and it was exotic and frightening and perfect. He didn’t have that dream much anymore.

Now his dreams weren’t so different from his reality. They took place down by the lake near the Resistance base, or orbiting D'Qar in an x-wing, or watching holofilms with Rey and Poe. In them he was free and it was the warmth of the sweater Rey clumsily knitted him and the familiarity of his and Poe’s bed and perfect.

As his eyes drifted shut, he smiled into Poe’s neck and chuckled because he could. Because he was a person with friends and a lover and his own clothes and his own bed and a cause he believed in.

He was free.


	2. Day 2: Flight

“Black Three, status report, please,” said Finn into the comm console.

“No suspicious activity so far, not even any debris. I’m gonna jump, I don’t think anything happened here,” said Jessika from several systems away.

Finn was helping coordinate reconnaissance missions for the Resistance while his back finished healing. His tactical experience in the First Order made him invaluable in understanding their movements, and how Resistance operatives could study their activities and still avoid confrontation.

Today Jessika was assessing the site of a reported battle between pirate forces and the First Order. Supposedly the pirates had won, and the Resistance was determined to figure out whether that was true, and if so, how.

“Switch to your live feed for a moment, please,” said Finn. Jess turned on the live feed and Finn could see open space stretched out in infinate directions before the stern of the star-fighter. The area around Jess’s ship was empty, as open space typically was, but this was… strange. “There’s nothing…” said Finn after nearly a minute.

“Yep,” said Jess. Finn was about to agree with her initial assessment that no battle had occurred there when he remembered something about that system.

“Wait, Jess, what’s your approximate distance from that moon over there, with the asteroid ring?”

“I’d say… five hundred kilometers, give or take a hundred fifty. What’re you thinking?” Jess asked. Finn grabbed his datapad and went back through all the data on that system he had been given.

“First Order astrological classification systems designate asteroid-ringed moons with that circumference and orbital velocity as Type Thesh. Type Thesh asteroid fields should stretch well over a thousand kilometers beyond the outer orbital layer. You’re sure there’s no debris?”

“Positive. Want me to get a closer look?”

“Please.” Jess propelled the ship towards the moon and came to a stop. Finn was beginning to see asteroid pebbles, indicative of the outer ring of a low-intensity asteroid field. He focused on all the pebbles he could see, memorizing the location of each one and attaching a little piece of his mind to all of them, linking them with invisible threads. It was a a technique he developed in ranged combat training, and it had kept him safe from injury, unlike many of his fellow cadets.

Then he closed his eyes and he was there. Not physically, of course, but with his mind. He could see everything in all directions around Jess’s ship, in 360-degree vision. He saw the magnetic fields pulsing between each rock and around Jess’s ship, he felt the waves of radiation coming off the larger pieces, and he could hear the raw energy of the stars. He then focused on the nose of Jess’s x-wing and stilled for a moment to reacquaint himself with the technique.

“Keep going, please.” Jess pulled forward and suddenly he was flying. Each pebble floated past, each magnetic pulse throbbed, each radioactive wave quivered, each star hummed softly. He left his body behind and replaced it with the song of the universe, letting it percolate through every corner of his consciousness as he drifted limitlessly through space. He slowly divested his focus from the ship’s nose and looked back out on the space in front of him, capturing the complete image of every piece of visible matter in his wake. “Can you see the scorch marks on the rocks?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it.”

“They have a rounded side with no scorching and then a jagged side with scorching…” He latched on to every nook and cranny of every rock he could see and saw the pattern, like a massive 3-D puzzle. “These were asteroids. They were blown apart by something. Recently.” He let himself fly just a little more, reveling in the freedom of being untethered, unguided, unrestrained, incorporeal. He let himself fly for just a few more seconds before getting back to work. “Have your astromech grab a couple rock samples and take some scans of the area, then jump back to D'Qar, okay?”

“You got it. See you soon.” Finn had studied various forms of disruptor weapons during his training. Some rifles used disruptor beams to blow their victims apart at the molecular level shot by shot. Some super weapons, like the Death Star and Starkiller Base, used super-powered disruptor beams to blow apart enormous masses like planets. To his knowledge, no disruptor cannon attachment had ever been manufactured for star ships. But the lack of any kind of debris until what should have been the middle of the asteroid layer told him something had blown those asteroids apart, and the scorching was consistent with a disruptor beam. He would examine Jess’s scans and samples and present them to the General as soon as he could.

But for now he sat down in a quiet corner, closed his eyes, and remembered what it felt like to fly.


	3. Day 3: Love

Finn woke up longing for the warm mass he fell asleep next to the night before. He lazily stretched out both his arms in search of his companion, but felt only a wall on his right and vacant space on his left. His eye lids were too heavy to open and he was too comfortable laying in that position, so he remained there with his eyes closed as he slowly adjusted to being awake.

“Good morning, sunshine,” whispered the voice that belonged to the warmth he was looking for. Gentle lips pressed a delicate kiss on his forehead. Finn instinctively reached up with his left arm and wrapped it around the warmth’s shoulders.

“Good morning. I love you,” he rasped. He opened his eyes and smiled at Poe, whose own warm smile made his chest simmer. Poe was standing over him, his hair tickling Finn’s forehead and their noses nearly touching.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry I woke you,” said Poe as he sat down next to Finn.

“Don’t worry about it! What am I smelling?” said Finn.

“Bantha steak and cheese omelet. I remembered it was omelet day in the commissary and I didn’t want you to miss out. I know it’s your favorite,” said Poe as motioned towards the bedside table. Finn craned his neck to look and saw two plates, each with their own omelet and muffin.

“Is that a meiloorun muffin?” he asked.

“Yep! You want breakfast in bed?” said Poe as he handed Finn a plate and fork. Finn beamed and sat up. He tensed in expectation of twinge of pain in his back that he got whenever he moved from a horizontal to a vertical position, but he felt nothing. No doubt the therapeutic pillow that had been under his back had helped that.

“Huh. I don’t remember putting my back pillow down last night,” said Finn as he took the plate from Poe and began cutting into his omelet. Dr. Kalonia had given Finn a memory foam pillow to put under his back when he slept. It was supposed to keep his vertebrae aligned and lessen his morning stiffness and pain. But he forgot to use it the previous night, as he had come back from a recon analysis briefing late and tired.

“Oh, I managed to slip it under you when I got back last night. You crashed pretty hard, you have a rough day?” Poe scooted across the bed to sit up against the wall as he ate. Their thighs and elbows bumped each other in that soft way that only people who share a bed and a life are comfortable with.

“No it was a pretty easy day. I had sniper training in the morning and then I was reviewing recon reports from the Sullust system until late. Is that caf?” Finn said as he nodded towards the cup on the bedside table. He reached for it and took a sip.

“Yep, that one’s yours. I drank mine already,” Poe replied. Finn hummed as he took another sip, savoring the almost bitter tang of the caf and the sweetness of the nerf milk creamer.

“One spoon of creamer and one of sugar? My man takes good care of me.”

“And it’s my pleasure, believe me,” Poe smiled. Finn laid his head across Poe’s shoulder and Poe rested his head on top of Finn’s.

“I love you,” said Finn.

“I love you, too.” They finished their breakfast in silence and sat together in bed. Eventually they would have to get ready for their shifts, and hey would have to part for a little while. So they cherished the silence of their room and the warmth of each other’s presence, content in their little piece of paradise.


	4. Day 4: Home

It wasn’t a cottage all alone on a hill

It wasn’t a house tucked between a million others in a city

It wasn’t an apartment in a skyscraper

It wasn’t a mansion on a beach

Or even a building

And it was perfect that way

It was a twin mattress shoved up against the far wall

It was old, thread-bare donated blankets and lumpy, smelly pillows

It was a commissary brimming with hungry Resistance fighters, practically sitting on top of each other because the benches were too small

It was brightly-painted droids with nicknames and personalities scurrying up and down the halls at all hours

It was dozens of different languages being spoken at any given time

It was the hum of constant laughter always coming from somewhere

It was cheap liquor being passed around at a bonfire

It was greeting everyone who walked past

It was people calling his name

It was someone he had only met once or twice stopping to show him a holovid on their datapad because they thought he would enjoy it

It was nearly ancient data terminals and dusty consoles that needed to be hit once or twice in order to work

It was early morning briefings with caf and pastries

It was the astromech who constantly complained about the tidiness of the room

It was the shared weapons stock that needed to be repaired or sanded down or soddered nightly

It was the washing machines stacked one on top of the other as people in orange jumpsuits and dark green jackets stretched and crouch to pull steaming clothes from the machines’ bellies

It was the two people laying on the floor beside him teasing each other and looking at him like he forged the stars by hand as they browsed the Holonet together

It was that word

That word he couldn’t quite define and yet he knew so well

It was safety and trust and humor and patience and creativity and diversity and clutter and playful scolding and shared food and pats on the back and love

It was home

And it was perfect


	5. Day 5: Hero

“Do you have a hero?” Finn asked Rey as they laid on their stomachs and braded blades of grass in the field behind the Resistance base. He had heard the word thrown around a lot lately.

“Did you hear General Calrissian blew up the Second Death Star? He’s a war hero, and he’s going to be training us!” Finn overheard one new recruit say to another.

“You brought me back Tarisian ale from your last mission? You’re my hero!” Jessika had told Karé.

“Deliver the cipher and report back here immediately. No heroics,” Leia had lectured Leiutenant Connix.

It seemed the word had a reverent connotation, like whoever it described was an almost deistic paragon among their peers. It spoke volumes not only about who the hero was, but also whose hero they were. The person being idolized and for what reason showed the idolizer’s character, their values. And the fact that Finn didn’t have one made him nervous.

Rey shrugged. The dozens of flowers she had crammed in her hair shifted.

“Sure!” said Rey as she dropped the blade of grass in her mouth, “Han, Leia, Luke, Lando… you.”

“I’m serious, Rey,” said Finn.

“So am I! You’re so smart and brave and kind! You came back for me when no one else ever did! You kept me safe and you always stick up for people. You’re a hero, Finn!” Rey pressed. Finn rolled his eyes and didn’t press the matter.

After supper Finn and Poe were doing data work in their room. Finn was laying on his side on his bed and scrolling through his datapad without really looking at anything. Poe was on his back across the width of his bed with his legs propped up against the wall and his waist at a ninety-degree angle. They were both engrossed in their datapads, though Finn was having trouble concentrating. He set his datapad down and looked across the room at his roommate.

“Hey Poe, can I interrupt you for a second?”

“Sure, bud! What’s up?”

“Do you have a hero?”

“I have a couple! My mom, my dad, you, General Leia, my squadrons, Beebee-ait, K-”

“Wait,” said Finn, “did you say me?”

Poe looked up from his datapad. “Absolutely! You saved my life, you saved the Resistance, you saved Rey, you fought Kylo Ren, you helped blow up Starkiller Base, you shut down the First Order’s tracking device, you’re kind, you’re funny, you’re smart, you’re compassionate, you’re- well I’m just rambling at this point but you see where I’m going.”

Finn sighed quietly and his shoulders sloped downwards. 

“What’s wrong?” Poe asked. He pivoted to an upright sitting position. 

“It’s nothing. I just… I don’t have a hero, and it feels weird. It’s probably a stupid thing to be worked up about but I feel like I’m missing something. There are people I admire, for sure, but they’re not my heroes.”

“Well I don’t think you _need_ a hero. Unless you want one. Do you want one?”

“I… don’t know. I guess so. Everybody I know has heroes and it says something about them. I don’t have a hero; what does that say about me?”

“Hmmm…” said Poe, deep in thought, “I don’t think it says anything about you. If anything it means you’re stronger than everyone else. Heroes inspire people, bring people comfort. Sometimes people can’t go on unless they have something to believe in, and a lot of times a person’s hero represents their beliefs. It makes them more… tangible? Maybe you don’t need anybody to represent your beliefs.” Finn nodded and drifted off to sleep.

A few days later, Finn, Rey, and Poe were attending a meeting in the command center. Vice Admiral Holdo was presenting her plan to capture a prisoner transport vessel in the Dandoran system and all the higher-ranking officers were required to attend.

Finn didn’t care for the Vice Admiral. Her grasp of military tactics was superficial at best, but she carried herself as though she invented them. Poe and Rey weren’t fond of her either (although Poe at least had the resolve to hide it) but everyone else seemed to trust her, so Finn kept his concerns to himself until today.

“Vice Admiral? I’m sorry to interrupt, but I see an issue with your boarding protocol. You won’t be able to dispatch two boarding parties at once because there’s no port landing bay on these transports, only starboard. I think instead-”

“Well I’m sure you would know, sweetie, but here in the Resistance, we wait for our turn to talk. Now-”

“Don’t condescend me,” Finn blurted plainly. Rey and Poe exchanged proud glances while the other officers looked on in shock, “I’ve earned my place here just like the rest of you, and my experience tells me that your plan is flawed.”

“Finn… you can’t talk to her like that. She’s a war hero, she was at the Battle of-” began Captain Teylar.

“Well we’re not at the Battle of such-and-such, okay? We’re right here and it’s right now, and right here and now I spot a problem with the Vice Admiral’s plan that will get our soldiers killed. If you look up to her that’s fine, but don’t expect me to bow and scrape because the Vice Admiral happened to be at some battle that was won by soldiers just like the ones she’s sending off to die.”

Finn walked up to the terminal and pointed at the diagram of the First Order transport, standing next to Holdo. “This airlock right here isn’t a landing platform like you’re assuming,” Finn said to Holdo, “it’s a maintenance hatch. It goes into the engine room and that’s it. That door is the only way to access the engine room. If your boarding party landed there, they would be caught by the motion detectors and vaporized instantly. That means half your strike force would be killed before the other half even made it off their ship. I presume you don’t want that, so I would suggest cutting your strike team by twenty-five percent and putting them all on the infiltration team. Set the would-be infiltration ship on autopilot with no one aboard and lock it onto the ship, next to the maintenance shaft. The First Order will be so distracted by that, there’ll be even less of a chance of the infiltration team being discovered.” Finn returned to his spot between Poe and Rey. He could feel all eyes on him but he stared straight ahead at Holdo.

“Excellent observation, Finn. The plan seems sound to me. What do you think, Vice Admiral?” Leia said. Holdo stared back at Finn for a moment before replying.

“Y-yes, I agree, that sounds like a good plan. Well done… Finn,” she choked out. Finn’s recommendations were integrated and the operation was set into motion.

A few hours later the infiltration team returned with all freed captives and no casualties. Word that ‘Finn the ex-stormtrooper’ had shown up the reputed Vice Admiral Holdo spread almost as fast as the success of his modifications. He smiled to himself as he brushed his teeth before bed that night.

He was proud of himself. In the First Order, authority was to be listened to and obeyed. There was no wiggle room, no dissent, no discourse. His superiors were always right and he carried out their orders without question.

Until Tuanal.

Now it was easier for him to speak up, to object or disagree with someone of a higher rank than himself. And it felt good. It felt like he had a voice, and he was proud that he’d found it all on his own.

He fell asleep that night with a soft grin across his lips. Maybe he didn’t have a hero. That was okay. A person is to be judged by their actions and their beliefs, not by who they agree with.

Or maybe, just maybe, he was his own hero.


	6. Day 6: Hope

The day started out fine. Finn woke up, showered, brushed his teeth, had breakfast, went to a meeting, did sniper training… Everything was normal until someone dropped a thermal coupling.

He had been helping Rey and Poe fix an old y-wing in the hangar. The hangar was always loud, it was a huge open space with hard floors and walls that echoed relentlessly. Normally it helped to have the door to the tarmac open, to let some of the sound escape. But that day it had been raining and opening the door wasn’t an option. He hoped the storm would dissipate so he could go for a walk later.

He was handing Rey a hydrospanner when a deafening metallic roar ripped through the air. Finn hit the ground instinctively, his body remembering the years of defensive conditioning it underwent in case of aerial bombardment.

Then he was back there. He was running. Some forgotten world on the edge of wild space, torn apart by First Order battering rams and burnt to a crisp by fire bombs. He was running. Running. Running. It was the perfect training obstacle course now that that the pesky population had been ‘evacuated’.

He was running. Running through the skeletons of old buildings, no roofs to protect him from the eye of the bomber ships. His only option was to outrun, outmaneuver them. He was running. Running. FN-8064 (Finn was pretty sure the other troopers called her Tweezers) and Pluck had fallen behind and been vaporized. It was only him and Nines left. Running.

He was running. Running. Gasping for air. Jumping. Dodging. Ducking. His brain took inventory of all the potential hazards in the area and he pre-planned the rest of his frantic route.

He was running. The finish line was just ahead. The bombers would pull back once they crossed it. Running. All they had to do was cross. Thirty more yards. Twenty. Fifteen. Eight.

“AGH!” Nines cried out. The stomach-churning slap of a body hitting the ground made FN-2187 stop in his tracks. Running. He pivoted and ran back to his squad mate, just barely dodging rubble kicked up by another bomb. Nines had tripped on a chunk of duracrete and injured his leg. Running. The ground shook as a bomb landed a few feet away from them. FN-2187 pulled Nines’s arm around his shoulders and did his best to resume his steady clip towards the finish line.

“Almost there, pal,” he said.

“Shut up!” Nines growled. Again the ground shook. The blast knocked them off their feet and onto their stomachs, across the finish line.

“Finn, say something, please,” Poe pleaded. Finn sat up, gasping for air. Two sets of hands rubbed his shoulders and back. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Poe asked. Rey and Poe were crouched beside him, their hands desperately trying to calm him and their concerned eyes checking him over for any sign of injury. The other people in the hangar turned to see what the commotion was.

“Shove off, mind your own business!” Rey ordered. They returned to their duties without comment. “Finn, what’s wrong? You yelled and fell down, we thought you were hurt!” Finn propped his elbows on his knees and laid his face in his hands, clenching his eyes shut to try to push the image of the decimated town out of his mind.

“Deep breaths, buddy, deep breaths,” said Poe.

“I-I need a minute. I need some air,” said Finn. Rey and Poe helped him to his feet and he departed the hangar alone. He tried to return the greetings people gave him as he made his way out of the base but it was difficult to re-sync his mind and body. He hoped no one noticed.

He ran when he reached the outdoors, his feet kicking up chunks of grass and mud from the early morning rain that had swept across the jungle. The air was thick and hard to breathe, but at least it was cool and fresh. The rain was falling at an angle and it stung his eyes as he ran. At first that’s what he thought the tears were from, until the rain stopped and the tears didn’t. He hoped no one had followed him out there.

Finally the earth came to stop at the edge of a cliff overlooking the lower jungle, and he collapsed at the foot of a tree. He laid against the trunk with his legs stretched out in front of him and wept. He hoped the mud wouldn’t permanently stain his pants.

He had left the First Order almost seven months ago. Six months, three weeks, four days, 18 Standard hours. So why couldn’t he shake their hold on him? He had episodes like the one in the hangar so often… Most of them not as intense, but still deeply unpleasant. He had hoped they would have stopped by now.

The smell of smoke made him hear the crying villagers at Tuanal. The sound of slamming doors brought him back to the reconditioning deck aboard the Finalizer. Touching plasteel reminded him of waking up every morning and donning a stormtrooper’s armor, his hands moving to attach the greaves, then the leg plates, then the chest plate, then the bracers, then the pauldron… 

He would flex his muscles to stop himself. He was free now. He was with the Resistance. He was safe. He knew it and yet the memories still haunted him.

When he first joined the Resistance, he used to wake up every night in tears, all of his worst memories pounding within his head like a mallet. He used to flinch every time someone so much as brushed up against him in the hallway. He used to gravitate towards the corner of whatever room he was in, his back to the wall so he couldn’t be snuck up on from behind. He used to panic about being outside of his room after 2200, fearing the punishment for breaking curfew.

He used to…

Finn gazed out over the infinite sea of dark green and realized he used to have a lot more episodes. ‘Attacks’ was what Dr. Kalonia had called them. He used to have a few small ones every day, or one or two severe ones. Now it was a few small ones or one severe one per week, on average. Sometimes even less. He hoped that meant he was getting better. 

Finn relaxed against the tree and looked up at the canopy. The sun was piercing through the storm clouds now, and its rays made the leaves and boughs glitter with droplets of water like daytime stars. They dripped down and landed on his nose, making him jump a little. He giggled as he felt them roll down his skin, off of his body. They left even tinier droplets behind, but they were drying quickly. He hoped his clothes would the smell of rain, at least for a few washes. 

It hit him with the next few drips: that was what he’d clung to all his life. Hope that he impressed his superiors enough to survive. Hope that he was strong enough not to need reconditioning. Hope that one day his squad mates would like him. Hope that one day he would become an officer and not be in constant fear for his life. Hope that his first mission went smoothly. Hope that the pilot would be willing to help him escape the Finalizer. Hope that Poe had survived the crash. Hope that there was a town out in the desert with some water for him to drink. Hope that he and the girl from the village could break atmo before the First Order caught them. Hope that Rey wouldn’t find out the truth about him. Hope that he could start over and build a life for himself. Hope that Han and Rey would listen to him about hiding out from the First Order. Hope that Rey would take care of herself after he left for the Outer Rim. Hope that he was wrong about the Hosnian system, even though he somehow knew he wasn’t. Hope that he could get to Starkiller Base in time to save Rey. Hope that it really was Poe standing on the other end of the tarmac. Hope that Poe was as happy to see him as Finn was. Hope that he could figure out a way to take down Starkiller’s shields. Hope that Han hadn’t suffered when Kylo Ren put a hole through his chest. Hope that his sacrifice would at least give Rey time to escape. Hope that Rey had escaped Starkiller Base. Hope that Poe would understand why Finn didn’t want to join the Resistance. Hope that wasn’t injured when the First Order bombed the Raddus’s hangar. Hope that he could get off the Raddus in time to save Rey from a death trap. Hope that the Resistance would listen to his plan to disable the tracking device. Hope that the ex-slave children from Canto Bight would be happy and safe in their new home. Hope that 926 wouldn’t realize what he was doing on the Supremacy. Hope that he and Poe had disabled the tracking device in time for the Resistance to jump to lightspeed. Hope that Leia’s allies would hear her message. Hope that the ship he saw on Crait’s horizon really was the Millenium Falcon. Hope that the Resistance would find somewhere safe to rebuild their base. Hope that they would find a way to destroy the First Order once and for all. Hope that he and Rey and Poe could have a normal life. Hope that one day he wouldn’t feel the cold hand of the First Order tugging at the edge of his consciousness. Hope that one day he would feel better. Hope that the storm would dissipate so he could go for a walk later.

“There you are!” Poe said. Finn turned around to see Poe and Rey, muddy, frazzled, and panting as they trudged up the hill towards Finn.

“Hey,” he greeted them.

“We were worried sick about you! We thought the storm swept you away!” Rey said and she plopped down next to Finn, sending mud splashing in all directions.

“I told her that wasn’t possible,” said Poe apologetically as he sat down cross-legged at Finn’s other side, “But I think you should come inside soon, or you’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay. I just need another minute,” said Finn as he resumed his reclined posture. Rey looked off in the direction that Finn was and grinned at all the green.

“Are you okay?” Poe asked him as he gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder. Finn turned to him and smiled.

“I will be.”


	7. Day 7: Integrity (Why you love Finn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably going to cry writing this note but I love Finn. I love him so. Fucking. Much. He's so intrinsically good and yet he's pragmatic and realistic and yet he's gentle and compassionate. He's so intelligent, so empathetic, and so unique. No other Star Wars character has subverted the "rebels vs. government = the only good vs. the only bad" trope like he has. He broke through an entire lifetime of fascist conditioning because he knew what they taught him was wrong. He disobeyed orders even though he had been programmed all his life not to. All because he couldn't hurt innocent people. Because he knew it was wrong. He took the image of the faceless, mindless stormtrooper we've known for forty years and shattered it, proving there is humanity even under those cold shells. He's incredibly complex, not just the "uwu sweet cinnamon roll, too pure", he's not afraid to tell it like it is and he's not afraid to forge his own way. He knows what's right and what's wrong and he doesn't let anyone tell him otherwise. He won't be intimidated, he won't be guilted, he won't be ordered around, he won't be bullied. He has so much love inside him for others, for the galaxy, and yet he's confident enough in his identity to stick up for himself. I could go on and on and on and on and on about him because there is no other Star Wars character like him. He's so iconic and the only characters who even compare to him are Luke Skywalker, Revan, and the Jedi Exile.  
> My favorite thing about Finn is probably the way he sticks to what he knows is right even though everything tells him not to. He wouldn't kill the villagers even though everything told him to. He wouldn't leave Poe to die in the wreckage on Jakku. He wouldn't let Rey be hurt by Unkar Plutt's thugs. He looked Maz Kanata in the eye and stood up for himself when she insinuated he was a coward (my favorite scene and quote of his!). He wouldn't run to the Outer Rim when he realized what the First Order did to the Hosnian system. He ran straight back to the First Order to save Rey. He jeopardized saving Rey to disable Starkiller's shields. He ran straight at Kylo Ren with the lightsaber. He chose to leave behind people who cared about him in order to protect Rey from the First Order. He risked his ability to protect Rey and his own safety in order to disable the First Order's tracking device. He's not a mindless drone who does whatever someone tells him to. He doesn't need idols or heroes to tell him how he should live and what he should believe. He knows who he is and what's best for him and what he deserves, but he still puts the needs of the galaxy ahead of himself. I love his integrity and I'm trying to capture that in this fic but there's no way I'll be able to in the way it deserves. But I hope you can still enjoy it!

Finn learned early on that he didn't exactly... fit in... with the Resistance. It wasn't that he was unhappy with them, or that he didn't believe in their cause. 

The problem was that the Resistance, after everything else, was an army.

Finn distrusted armies. He distrusted authority and all who followed it without question. He distrusted ranks. He distrusted orders. And more than anything, he distrusted orders. It wasn't that he was inherently rebellious or had a "problem" with authority. It was that he had seen armies, authority, ranks, and orders at their absolute worst. He saw what they were when taken to their most extreme, and to him it was the epitome of evil: the complete disregard and even contempt for sentient life.

Finn knew better than anyone in the Resistance that obedience had to be tempered, lest it morph into something much, much uglier. And if he had to be the one to do it, and if it made him stick out even more, then so be it. 

It was a rainy afternoon on D'Qar, as they so often were, and a pounding rain hammered against the walls of the base as Resistance fighters went about the daily tasks. For Finn, that meant briefings in the command center. New recon reports were coming in daily and Finn's presence was always requested to help analyze them. He was happy to do it. Strategy was always his favorite. 

But Resistance methodology made him uneasy. It was too imprecise. Too much guesswork. Intuition was all well and good, but when you had millions of credits worth of supplies and a transport full of recruits careening through hostile space, you needed something more empirical than instinct to scout the right paths. 

"As you can see here, the orbital station at Tantive XII is off all the major hyperlanes. The First Order hasn't been spotted in that system in six months, so it should be a good stopping point for the freighter. Now, if you'll look at the Dartuu system..." Admiral Ackbar said as he pointed at various dots across the holoprojection. Finn frowned as he studied the map of the Tantive system. The Admiral's plan would probably be fine, but 'probably' wasn't good enough. "Any questions?" the Admiral asked. Finn was the first to raise his hand. "Yes, Finn, go ahead."

"With all due respect, Admiral, I don't think Tantive XII is a good midway stop. It's not on any major hyperlanes, true, but it is a stop on the Third Tion Belt, one of the only exclusively Tionese hyperlanes. We don't have any data on Tionese hyperlanes other than that they exist. And considering that the First Order has a strong presence in all the sectors adjacent to Tionese space, I think it's likely they have scouts on all the Belts," Finn explained. 

"What are you suggesting?" Ackbar asked. 

"I think our freighter shouldn't jump straight from the exfiltration point to Tantive XII. I think they should jump from the exfiltration point to Zeltros, from Zeltros to Nar Shaddaa, Nar Shaddaa to Zonju VI, and from Zonju VI to D'Qar."

"Sounds like an awful lot of jumping. Too risky," said a Togruta captain named Jurm. 

"The First Order isn't interested in the Zeltros system, there's nothing strategically valuable about it. They won't waste scouts there. Nar Shaddaa is a nightmare for First Order tracking software, so even less likely the our ship will be noticed. We can also get cheap fuel there in large quantities. Filling our freighter's tank at Tantive XII would daw attention because it needs so much. They probably wouldn't even have big enough adaptors. Zonju VI isn't worth watching either, as far as the First Order is concerned. Our freighter could stop off there to make sure they're not being tracked by bounty hunters and then head here. Zonju VI is a mud ball, the only traffic they get are produce transports. They probably don't even take record of incoming and outgoing traffic." The rest of the Resistance looked upon Finn increduously. He knew they thought he had some nerve, always making alterations and recommendations to their superiors' plans. 

Ackbar turned back to the holoprojection and studied it in complete silence for almost half a minute before nodding and turning back to Finn.

"You make an excellent point, Finn. It's best not to take any risks where we can avoid them. If no one else objects, I'll transmit the plans to our operatives." No one spoke and so Ackbar dismissed the meeting to contact the exfiltration team.

 

A few weeks later Finn and Rey were on a mission to Ithor. A group of religious minorities, oppressed by Ithor's xenophobic government, contacted one of Leia's allies seeking evacuation. Vice Admiral Holdo, familiar with the Ithor system and its government, was their coordinating officer. 

Finn, Rey, and the refugees had snuck into the spaceport through the sewer and had just finished loading everyone onto a freighter. A freighter they were about to steal. All was going smoothly until the starboard engine sputtered and died. Now Rey was swallowed up by the engine maintenance hatch in the floor, frantically unscrewing, hammering, stripping, and soldering the antique power converter. 

"The Enclave!" a refugee child cried. Rey moved to pull herself out of the hatch. 

"No, it's okay, stay here. I'll check it out. Just have this rust bucket ready to fly when I get back, okay?" said Finn. Rey sighed.

"Be careful, okay?"

"Always." Finn told the refugees to hide and then disembarked the freighter. 

"I don't know what you think you're doing but considered it scrapped. To avoid a diplomatic incident, be honest with them about the refugees. Under galactic law, they're legally obligated to let them leave," said Holdo into Finn's ear piece. 

"Yeah, that's why we're trying to smuggle them off-world, right? They'll kill those people if we let them, and I'm not gonna let them," Finn retorted. 

"It's not that easy-" Holdo began.

"Hello," said Finn as a trio of Ithorian Enclave officers approached the ship. 

"Present your identification," the lead officer commanded. 

"Cooperate," Holdo hissed. 

"May I ask what this is about?" Finn asked innocently. 

"No! Give them your ID. NOW," said Holdo. 

"This is your second request: present your identification. We have received reports of suspicious activity in this hangar." Finn paused for a moment and handed them his forged ID he took with on all missions. They looked it over suspiciously and shoved it back at him.

"I haven't seen anything suspicious here, but I'll definitely let you know if I do," said Finn. 

"Shut. Up," said Holdo. 

"Do you know anything about the Habban Covenant, offworlder?" the lead officer asked. 

"Be honest, Finn. This isn't a joke. Stop playing hero."

"No, sir, I don't," Finn replied.

"Really? So you haven't seen a group of Habban Covenant cultists since you came to Ithor?"

"Tell them the truth. You're only making this more risky the more you screw off."

"Not that I know of, but to tell you the truth, I don't know much about Ithor. My business is textiles, if you're interested! You look like a Ruuusani glimmer silk man to me-" Finn began. 

"Where are the cultists?" the officer demanded. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're-"

"Search the ship," the lead officer ordered. 

"Fess up to them. Now," said Holdo. Finn jumped in front of the exit bay door. 

"How much money can I give you to go let me leave? I'm sorry I lied to you but..." Finn wracked his brain for a compelling lie. 

"Good. It will be easier if you're honest with them," said Holdo. 

"...but I'm smuggling art. I was contacted by a Nabooian noble to smuggle some old Echani art out of some Hutt's palace on Nar Kreeta. I'm already two days late and if I put off leaving any longer, I'll lose my pay by half. Please, just let me go?" Finn knew Ithorian high society had a soft spot for art. Especially for protecting it from unappreciative owners. And with a little help from his powers of persuasion (powers he hadn't realized he had until recently, and would probably have to confront in the near future), he almost had them convinced. Until the baby cried.

"He has the cultists! Arrest him!" the lead officer yelled. Finn groaned and threw a smoke grenade at the officers' feet, blinding them temporarily. He jumped inside the ship and sealed the airlock door. 

"Rey, we need to get out of here, now!" Finn yelled. Rey leaped out of the maintenance hatch and ran to the bridge. They took their seats and held their breath as Rey started the engines and Ithor was far, far behind them within a few minutes. They sighed with relief once they hit hyperspace and relaxed in their chairs. Until Holdo's face appeared over the comm console. 

"What the HELL were you thinking?" she demanded. 

"We came here to save those people and that's what we did," Finn replied calmly. 

"You've caused a diplomatic incident is what you've done! I told Leia not to send you! You've spent way too much time around that flyboy Dameron."

"I wasn't going to hand those people over to be killed! How could you even consider that?" Finn demanded. 

"Diplomacy isn't pretty, alright? Sometimes we have to do ugly things to keep the peace. We knew there was a risk that the Enclave wouldn't let us evacuate the refugees, you knew that when you agreed to the mission."

"I suppose you would know about ugly things..." Rey muttered. 

"Excuse me?!" said Holdo. 

"Sorry, Vice Admiral, our connection's going out. We'll see you back at Base," said Finn as he shut off the comm. He and Rey shared a laugh and went to check on their passengers. 

 

Finn paced up and down the corridor to the infirmary, arms crossed at his chest or behind his back or doing anything to channel his nervous energy.

The Resistance had heard from a reliable source that pirates on Felucia had found an abandoned Mandalorian weapons cache with a rare BTKR-4J7 portable energy shield, used to protect Mandalorian strongholds from bombardment during the Mandalorian Wars.

Finn immediately had a bad feeling. He knew the Mandalorians never occupied Felucia during the Mandalorian Wars, which means if the shield really was there, they had brought it themselves. He was worried that the pirates had found the weapon somewhere else and moved it to Felucia to be auctioned or sold so as to conceal the location of the real cache. If that was true, the Resistance wouldn't be the only group there. He expressed his concern to Leia Finn recommended deploying probe droids to observe the pirates and see if they really had the weapon, and if anyone else knew about it. Leia told him it was a good idea, but they couldn't risk losing the shield. The Resistance needed it not just for their base, but so they could reproduce it for their allies.

So Finn and Poe went to Felucia. Straight into the arms of the First Order. 

They almost made it home free. The day was so close to simply being a close call. But not close enough. Their ship was in sight when they were ambushed.

A Knight of Ren sank his vibroblade deep into Poe's chest.

Finn felt the pain as though it had been in his. Poe told him to run. To save himself. To leave him there. The idea almost made Finn wretch.

Now they were back on D'Qar and Poe was in surgery. For over fifteen hours. 

"Finn..." said Leia as she left the infirmary and laid a hand on Finn's shoulder, "He's still in surgery but they should be done soon. He's held out this long. All we can do is-"

"Is what?" Finn snapped, taking a step backwards and letting her hand fall from his shoulder, "Trust in the Force? Hope? Hope is like the sun, right? If you only believe in it when you can see it, you'll never make it through the night? Spare me."

Leia sighed. "Finn, I'm sorry it happened this way-"

"Oh are you really? Well that's great, that's just fantastic," Finn began. A few Resistance fighters paused to gawk at the unfolding spectacle. "Poe believed in your precious sun and it nearly got him killed. You most faithful soldier, your best pilot, your most talented operative, and you sent him to die!"

"That's not true," Leia said calmly.

"Like hell it isn't! This is why I didn't want anything to do with you or with your army at first, you use people. You pat people on the back and tell them they're fighting for a good cause and then you throw them into the fire and hope they can climb out. You put all your strategy and all your resources behind  your objectives and you don't give a DAMN about the people achieving them for you! You don't stop to remember why your objectives even matter!"

"Finn, you know that's not true. War is ugly, and unfortunately we sometimes have to make sacrifices-"

"OH REALLY?! Tell me how ugly war is! I was raised for war! I studied, practiced, ate, drank, and breathed war my entire damn life! No, I know the truth! You've become so used to being in the right, so used to good people like Poe trusting you that you don't even question yourself anymore. Would Princess Leia, who took down two Death Stars, have sent two operatives to a remote planet with nothing except a couple blasters and trust in the Force to get her hands on some fancy tech? NO! You've gotten so used to working in survival mode, hoarding resources and building arsenals and forging alliances that you don't even remember why you're doing it! What's the point of protecting your Resistance if all it does is get people killed?"

"We need that tech to protect ourselves!" said Rose Tico.

"Oh please! Tech doesn't win wars! The Rebel Alliance took down two Deaths Stars with x-wings! Hell, the Resistance took out Starkiller Base with x-wings! Tech is worthless unless you've got tactics and a genuine concern for the people you're sending to execute them! Good luck powering your fancy Mandalorian shield when all your soldiers are dead."

"That's enough, Finn," said Admiral Ackbar. The disturbance had attracted a sizable crowd. 

"No, let him speak," said Leia. 

"You know what your problem is? All of you? You're too much like the old Jedi. The people who threw Clone slaves at a droid army because they were too arrogant and stupid to see what was really going on! You're too much like the New Republic. The people who told you the First Order wasn't worth worrying about, to mind your business and run their errands for them while they squandered their soldiers in skirmishes across the galaxy! You're complacent! You're so sure of your own righteousness, of your own ability that you don't stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, it isn't normal to sacrifice operatives in order to get your hands on fancy tech! You've gotten so wrapped up in fighting for the greater good that you forgot that the greater good is made up of a bunch of smaller goods, and if you sacrifice enough of the little ones, you won't have a greater one to go to when the war is over!" 

"You're absolutely right, Finn," said Leia, "You-"

"I don't need you to tell me that. It's gratifying to know you're listening, but I don't need you to tell me that I'm right about this. Maybe that sounds arrogant to the rest of you, but this has been my life since before I can remember. And I'm ready to move on. I'm tired and I'm ready for this to be done. Because until it is, I can't convince myself that life is more than tragedy and suffering. Can you?"

Leia looked to the ground in thought. Or perhaps shame. Finn didn't really care, in all honest. She was a good person and a good leader, but she didn't deserve his pity or his approval. 

"General?" said a voice from the infirmary door. Dr. Kalonia deposited a pair of gloves into the waste receptacle and wiped sweat from her brow, "He's resting now. He came through it with flying colors and he should make a full recovery." Finn turned to Leia, whose gaze shot back up to his upon hearing the news. 

"You should go to him," she told Finn. Finn didn't need to be told. Dr. Kalonia just barely jumped out of the way as he sprinted to Poe's bedside. He was sleeping peacefully, a black curl stuck to his forehead with sweat. Finn brushed it away gently. He dabbed tears from his cheeks with his jacket sleeve and sat down in the chair alongside Poe's bed. There he stayed all night, his hand never leaving Poe's for even a moment. 

He wasn't sure what time the General came. It was still pitch black out, and he couldn't see her or a chrono. He only heard her. Felt her presence. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered to someone. Finn pretended to be asleep, keeping his head resting on Poe's knee as it had been when he woke up. A hand came to rest on his shoulder. "And thank you." He only knew she left because that aura of determination, that fire that burned with drive and power and motivation, went dimmer and dimmer until it was too far away for him to sense. 

Finn smiled for the first time in days. Poe was going to be okay. He'd finally told Leia what had been burning in the back of his mind since he first met her.

And there was something stirring in the air, like a cool breeze in a musty room. It swirled around and breathed a little bit of life into everything it touched.

The war was far from over. But at least in that moment, it wasn't so hard to see past the tragedy and suffering.


End file.
